Angel of Death
by Demandred
Summary: A city of people vanishes while they sleep, and the journey begins to stop The Three for the very first time, even before Tristram falls to Diablo
1. Prologue: Silence

Dark Omen  
Prologue: Silence  
  
Morning revealed nothing but tranquility through the dense fog, which hung thick like pestilence in the air. Shutters creaked slowly on rusted hinges, beating out an eerie rhythm upon crude wooden siding as a faint wind slowly pushed the fog from the silent city. The large market square to the north lay strangely silent, the colorful decorations surrounding the shops dulled and dreary by the fog. Several doors were ajar, giving a glimpse of the wares which lay inside, but the shopkeepers were nowhere to be seen. Bright and colorful banners, thick with moisture, slapped slowly against long, thick poles driven into the ground at each corner of the square. Further north, along a grand cobblestone walkway across a lake of blue, the tall, silver spires of the palace reached upwards to cleave the sky. Weapons and armor plating lay about the palace in small piles, a slight bit of rust beginning to show at the edges. Throughout the ancient city of Ulethos, silence. Nothing stirred in the city - no man or woman or child, nor any beast or insect. The night had come and gone, and all life had dissipated, like the fog before the morning sun.  
  
* * *  
  
Sulaco groaned as he slowly awoke, wondering why the maelstrom of noise had not yet reached his ears. Sunlight poured through the shutters, and the thick fog of the morning had left a fine sprinkling of water on the sill, slowly tracing rivulets down the wood and stone walls, collecting in small puddles on the dirt floor. Age was slowly gaining ground on Sulaco's body, and the sculpted strength of youth was slowly giving way to thin folds of flesh. Nevertheless, the man went about his morning with energy, washing his face and hands in a basin at the foot of his straw cot and throwing on the embroidered gray and blue robes that marked his position beside the King's throne before finally taking a peek outside a window, looking towards the palace. His face creased, multiplying the lines in his face threefold, at the eerie silence and emptiness that confronted him. Puzzled, he ventured outside, throwing open the heavy oak door as he grabbed the gnarled wooden staff lying against the doorframe. He trudged slowly but purposefully through the cobblestone streets, inspecting house after house. In each, he found the signs of life -- fires still smoldering in the ashes of a cooking fire beneath the wood stove, bowls laid out, some half-full with cold food. Piles of clothing lay upon several of the chairs. In some houses, pewter pots and spoons were thrown carelessly on the floor, and several knives, clean but slightly rusted, were sometimes found amongst the clothing. "It's almost as if the people simply. . . vanished," Sulaco thought grimly to himself. His inspection of the square and the palace seemed to support his conclusion. Wares were laid out in some of the market stalls and seemed to suggest a customer in the process of buying, and a vendor in the process of selling. At the palace, each pile of armor plate was exactly a full suit, complete with the pike, sword, shield, and dagger used by the Royal Guard. No weapon had been drawn from its scabbard, and none of the newly polished shields showed any wear, save for the slight rust at the edges which had been characteristic of every other piece of metal Sulaco had seen.  
As the sun quickly rose to its zenith, Sulaco realized that he was the only survivor. He had run about the city as fast as his legs could carry him, attempting to find others who had lived the night, but everywhere there was nothing but clothing. Try as he might, he could not find any sign of struggle, nor was there any trace of blood. His arcane powers had waned from misuse, and he was unable to detect any life in the city. He spent the rest of the afternoon pondering his predicament. With no other person left in the city, Sulaco has no other choice but to flee northward, towards the heart of Khanduras. He only prayed that the other cities of Khanduras had not suffered the same fate as his beloved Ulethos.  



	2. Chapter 1: Encounters

Angel of Death  
Chapter 1: Encounters  
  
Loraan stared into the deepening shadows slowly encroaching upon the small circle of light cast by his small campfire. The creatures of the night were strangely silent on this damp evening, with little more than the sounds of small rodents scampering across the undergrowth. He adjusted his posture on the small, round rock and continued watching for signs of life. With the recent strengthening in the influence of the Three upon Sanctuary, any life in the wilderness may prove hostile or even demonic. The campfire began to sputter, prompting him to toss another small log on the pitiful flames. He sat and thought a bit, while his right index finger idly traced blue flames in the air. The evil had been spreading across the land slowly, and the Horadrim, though powerful, were not fast enough in stamping out the small packs of demons that turned up in various towns and cities throughout Sanctuary. The fear in the populace was contagious, spreading like wildfire across the more civilized nations, causing mass migrations wherever demons were sighted. Fighters and magic-users like himself had spread like flies across a dragon's corpse, bravely combating evil, though with limited success, wherever it threatened. The reports from the east had been ominous at best, tales of great hulking brutes standing twice as tall as a man wielding massive two-handed battle axes crafted from some infernal black metal cutting ten warriors in half with a single mighty swing. Fire-breathing demons and huge mobs of small goblin-like creatures scoured the countryside, slowly pillaging and killing until only the walled cities stood, and even then, it was not long before the walls fell to the constant bombardment of demonic magi. The south had remained strangely silent, which perhaps indicated a situation more dire, for in Loraan's experience, silence usually meant no survivors. The hope that the south had been spared had been abandoned, for trade caravans and messengers brave enough to take the trip through the forests and grasslands to the south had never been seen or heard from again. Traveling towards Khanduras to meet with a band of Horadrim fighter-mages, Loraan had seen his share of fighting, death, and suffering. While life and death to him were part of the same great cycle, the expressions on some of the horribly mutilated, charred bodies of men, women and children had been haunting. . . the sheer fear and pain was etched in his mind forever, and he woke with images of those faces every morning.  
A sudden flare in his senses jolted Loraan out of his thoughts. The evil presence floated in his mind like an oil slick on a pool of clean water. As Loraan stood, the presence rapidly multiplied in his mind, spreading like a black plague of darkness across the surface of his thoughts. Grabbing his bone shield and wand, Loraan quickly stamped out the fire with an iron heel and stepped backwards into the trees, blending in with the dark, the white of his bone armor gleaming as though a skeleton, not a man, danced amongst the trees. And then, he saw them, or rather, felt them. They were large animals, although twisted in shape by the influence of the Three. He could not make out the exact forms, even when he projected his senses outwards, wrapping them around the evil before him, enveloping the creatures with his mind. He could uses his mind to generate mental maps of the area around him, probing for life, but animals tended to use their eyes for hunting, thus giving him the upper hand. As they drew closer, Loraan fought the urge to empty the contents of his stomach onto the forest floor as the fetid smell of blood and rotting entrails washed over him. . . apparently other unfortunates had wandered into these creatures' paths. The leaves of the trees rustled as the beasts approached, apparently unconcerned with stealth in the corrupted haze of their minds.  
Slowly focusing his mind, Loraan raised his hands, steadily drawing power from the nether beyond. He could feel the strength flowing from the tips of his outstretched fingers, through his hands, coursing down his straightened arms and flowing into every fiber of his being. Thus prepared, he lowered his hands, preparing for the onslaught. He readied his shield, a mass of bleached and battered bone held together by forces beyond the strength of simple iron. His wand glowed steadily blue in his right hand, a finely crafted implement of destruction, with arcane symbols etched into the ornately decorated skull at its end. The metal and bone of his armor, pulsing with an unholy light, felt suddenly light upon his shoulders as the power slowly flooded him, granting him not only magical power, but physical strength and mental focus.  
The beasts were approaching rapidly now, and their forms slowly became clear. . . wolves. Misshapen wolves, with fangs so large that the jaw had to remain perpetually open lest they stab themselves with their own teeth. They came at a demonic pace, long loping strides rapidly taking them through the forest, not 20 meters from him. Closing his eyes, Loraan raised his hand and channeled his power. Above the skull of his wand, a white point of light flashed into being, lines of mystical energy flowing from his arm. With a sudden flash, a shaft of pure white bone sprang into existence, shooting forward at an arrow's pace, impaling the first demonic wolf even as it leapt into the air towards him. Continuing on through the branches, the shaft pierced through tree trunks thicker than fortress walls, rending and tearing its way through the column of wolves. Demonic intellect rapidly adapted however, as the wolves broke formation and fanned out into the forest, attacking from multiple directions. Loraan focused inward, concentrating on the newly fled spirit of his closest victim. Re-imbuing life into the shattered corpse, Loraan reanimated the demonic wolf, which then mindlessly tore off into the forest, seeking its former brethren. Momentarily drained from exertion, Loraan almost missed the silent approach of a wolf from behind. He spun quickly as his senses flared, bringing up the bone shield as he formed another bone spear with his wand. Razor teeth slashed against bone, scoring long marks and jarring Loraan's arm, almost causing him to drop the shield. The wolf landed 3 feet away, turned quickly, and sprung again, taking a shaft of bone directly through the head. Masses of red and green spurted obscenely from the ruptured skull, splattering the nearby area in toxins. Momentum carried its carcass through the air, and Loraan had to twist sideways quickly to avoid being bowled over. He could sense a fight somewhere off to his left, where his mental tag on his reanimated wolf was. The wolf had attracted the majority of the remaining wolves, and though his magic strengthened his own minions considerably, Loraan could sense that his wolf was fighting a desperate battle against a score or more of its own kind. Slipping silently to towards the mob, Loraan readied a spell in his mind, and slowly drew what remaining power he had from his body. As he came within throwing distance of the struggle, he could see a mob of wolves dancing about in a circle around a single target, every once in a while darting inwards with a flash of teeth before retreating back to the circle. Loraan, unseen, took his time to focus his power, then, slowly raising his hand, he pointed towards the middle of the circle. As the power left his body, completely draining him, he saw the air around the wolves begin to glow red with friction and heat. The cloud of red grew rapidly larger, slowly taking a humanoid form. The wolves were not quick enough to spring aside as the fire golem suddenly flashed into existence, scorching everything around it with its searing flames. Several of the demonic wolves were killed outright, their bodies scorched beyond recognition. The others, suffering horrible burns, turned away, snarling, and fled into the forest, even as the trees and undergrowth began to light and crackle with flames. They did not get far, as the golem pursed them with unearthly speed, hunting down one after the other with its fire. Bright flashes of flame erupted where it struck them, burning hideous holes in their hides and vaporizing their innards. As the last of the wolves was destroyed, Loraan, fighting fatigue, relinquished his control of his minions. The fire golem dissipated in a cloud of hellish light, and his reanimated wolf simply slumped to the ground, once again a lifeless corpse. Staggering back to his small camp, Loraan sat again upon his stone and, despite his fatigue, began to think again. He would not sleep as long as he remained in the wild. To do so would be to risk death, and though he did not fear death, there were things that had to be done before he took the trip.  
The presence of wolves this far to the west meant the evil was spreading more rapidly than anyone had originally thought. He feared what he might find the next morning when he walked northward to the town of Lunas, or rather, what he may fail to find.  
  
* * *  
  
Amura floated, silent and motionless, above the underbrush, eyes closed as he focused his concentration inwards. The tendrils of his power spread invisibly outwards through the forest, wrapping around each tree trunk, slithering upwards, twisting and writhing around every branch, caressing every leaf. Thick invisible coils spread out across the forest floor, rapidly slithering and undulating into the distance. Small fibers wrapped around each insect, reached upwards to feel the wings of birds flying slowly and carelessly through the greenery. With Amura as its center, the power flowed throughout the forest like an invisible, intangible gelatinous mass, flowing and slopping into every crevice, wrapping around every object and creature, relaying information back to its caster. So many years had been spent into honing this sensory skill that Amura could count exactly how many insects were in the forest, how many leaves were on how many branches of how many trees, how many times each bird flapped its wing, or how many ogres tramped through the northern portion of the forest, almost 7 kilometers away. The tendrils of power flowed into and around the raiding party, engulfing each ogre, completely filling and wrapping around armor, weapon, and shield without the ogres' knowledge. The ogres could neither see nor feel the power, nor could they sense any form of aura. Their battered black iron armor plating clanked loudly as their horribly misshapen feet trampled bushes, insects, and fungus. Long swords, axes, and flails were held in hands frozen permanently into fists. Some ogres sported ornate shields, most probably stolen from fallen human warriors, but most preferred dual weapons. As the power completely engulfed the ogre raiding party, Amura concentrated his mana, focusing and channeling it for a brief instant, sending an enormous bolt of lightning down the tendrils. As the lightning raced through the thick coils, the forest erupted into flames from the sheer energy. Waves of dirt and greenery exploded into the air as the bolt passed by. The ogres never saw it coming. As the bolt reached the group, it spread out, flashing through the entire group of ogres, striking with the swiftness and fire of a paladin's zeal. The black metal armor conducted the electricity brilliantly, crackling, fusing, and splitting apart as the intense energy flared through them. Most of the ogres simply exploded in bloody clouds inside their armor, splattering a large area with blood, scraps of flesh, and bone. Others convulsed, twitching and writhing wildly as electricity arced through their bodies. The smell of burnt flesh was overwhelming, and the forest around the group had been burned to the bare soil; all living things within 30 meters had been purged. Clouds of vaporized metal wafted upwards from charred ground as Amura returned to scouting the forest with his power.  
He had been floating motionless in the center of the same forest for weeks, without water, food, or sleep. The endless power of his mana sustained him, and could continue to sustain him for years. An Archmage reigning from the Citadels of the Sky, his training and inner focus had eventually granted him the ability to use his mind to replenish his energy infinitely, which in turn could be used to sustain his body. No longer were hunger, thirst, or fatigue bothersome to him. However, the number of creatures he was encountering was increasing, and they appeared with increasing frequency, causing him to expend more and more energy faster than he liked. Over time, Amura could eventually fully recharge his energy but with more frequent use, his regeneration was not meeting the heavier and heavier demand. After expending the energy to vaporize the ogres, Amura could feel the beginning of weakness and brain fatigue as his vigilance began to take its toll. Realizing that he would not be able to hold his position for very much longer, Amura fought to hold onto control. Through a haze, Amura estimated he could remain conscious for another 3 or 4 days. After that, the surrounding villages would need a new source of protection. Amura thought quickly, assessing his options. He would not allow these villages to suffer the same fate as the others he had passed on his way northward. Finally, he settled on a solution. Slowly, he lowered himself to the forest floor. Insects and rodents scrambled away as the heels of his plated boots touched down lightly on the soft soil, slowly emitting a blue aura. He breathed deeply, preparing his body for the coming spell. Suddenly, an aqua aura exploded into existence around him, flaring brightly like an ethereal flame. From underneath his eyelids blue flames licked and from the tips of his fingers blue flames drew arcane symbols in the air. The words flared as long fingers traced them out, then slowly dissipated. With a slash of his right forefinger, Amura traced a long arc of blue fire in the air and pointed at the ground. Slowly, the forest floor began to bulge upwards, rapidly turning a grayish red. The bulge slowly expanded, forming into broad shoulders and a torso. Within seconds, a red-gray man of earth and stone stood before Amura, hands clenched in fists at its sides. After conveying instructions through a psionic link to his creation, Amura hovered into the air and was quickly asleep. The man lingered until its master breathed deeply and evenly, then gestured and suddenly disappeared, a circle of red fire marking his teleport spell.  



	3. Chapter 2: Lunas

Angel of Death  
Chapter 2: Lunas  
  
Gareth was staring intently into the bottom of his wooden mug, apparently attempting to decipher the meaning of life and the universe. He could feel the presence of ancient beings in his head, lazily flowing about, tracing flowering patterns of light and joy across the surface of his mind. Their songs imparted long-lost wisdom and he strained to hear the secrets of the Abyss. The beautiful, wailing songs grew louder as he continued to reach out for them, until finally it pierced through his mind, a sharp, shrieking call.  
The screams brought him out of his drunken reverie.  
Stumbling out of his chair and groping with his right arm for his longsword, he wheeled around trying to get his bearings. Head swimming, he reached behind himself for a wall to steady him, and drew back his hand, "DAMN that's hot! What the -" Turning around, he finally noticed the solid sheet of fire crawling up the wall behind his seat. Looking around, he realized that he was the only one left in the tavern, having been lost in his alcohol-induced dream he had not noticed the screams of men, women and children outside. The others had left the tavern, taking their weapons with them, long before the tavern had caught fire.   
The hot buttered rum Gareth had just recently gulped down continued to do its work, casting a blanket of sluggishness over his body. Stumbling a few steps, he grabbed for his sword, but only succeeded in knocking it to the floor. Cursing, he bent down to pick it up, cracking his head against the edge of the table sharply. Reeling, he stumbled backwards and tripped over his overturned chair, and fell over onto the floor flailing his arms.  
Groaning and clutching his head, he looked upwards and waited for the world to stop revolving about him. He was barely fast enough to avoid the blade that slashed down, biting into the wood just a few centimeters from his left ear. The sudden shock finally cleared his foggy head. The veteran leapt onto his feet and raced the several steps forward to his sword. His hand closed around the hilt as he rolled forward and away from the enemy's blade, which was buried in the floor not 5 feet away. Coming to his feet, Gareth turned to survey his attacker. Scales of red-greenish hue covered an impressively muscled bulk, standing about two heads above an average man. The head was disturbingly humanoid. Long spires of bone protruded from its back and a wicked set of claws clicked as the monster yanked its embedded sword from the floor.  
"Damn bastards just won't quit," Gareth muttered under his breath.  
With an ancient and damaged great axe in the other hand, the monster charged forward, bringing the axe over its head to cleave Gareth in two. The axe whistled through air as Gareth quickly stepped to the side, swinging two-handed with his longsword through the creature's midsection. The sword skidded off hard scales, dislodging several, and scraped across the monster's side drawing blue blood in a large gout. Gareth struggled to hold onto his sword as the impact almost jolted it from his grasp, then rolled backwards as the monster's sword whistled through the space his head had just vacated. Regaining his footing, he suddenly heard a crash from behind and turned just in time to see a blade coming through the wall towards him in a long, clumsy arc. Nevertheless, Gareth had been caught by surprise and as he stepped away he cursed at the long gash that ran across his left arm. A twin of the monster that had attacked him, the newcomer stepped through the burning wall that it had just smashed to kindling. The fire, meanwhile, had spread to the floors, and several sets of chairs and tables burned almost merrily, giving off intense heat and causing Gareth to sweat profusely. He adjusted his slippery grip on the hilt of his long sword and surveyed the two monsters in front of him, each wielding an axe and a sword roughly twice as long as his own, and perhaps three or four times heavier.  
"This doesn't seem like a very fair fight to me, gentlemen," he said aloud. The monsters replied by charging forward, weapons swinging. Lethal, bladed edges whistled through air in a crude dance of death as the monsters collided with Gareth. Blocking strike after strike from four different weapons whistling around him, Gareth could feel his arms fatiguing. "Damn these guys swing hard," he thought to himself as he again just barely parried an axe-swing with the flat of his blade. He was slowly loosing ground, backing away from the onslaught of whirling blades and axes. He could not spare a look behind him without risking an opening that could perhaps result in a separation between his head and his body and so could only stumble backwards blindly. The monsters seemed content with forcing him slowly backwards, expending only as much effort as needed to drive him backwards. "Once I trip on something, they'll come in with those axes and it'll be all over," Gareth thought grimly. Suddenly, he saw an opening - a sword arm too low and an axe raised too high - allowing him to thrust forwards while twisting sideways to avoid being sliced in half by the other monster. His opponent grunted as the sword cut sideways across its body, finally slicing through his scales and ripping a large gash in its abdomen. Blue liquid gushed out in an obscene mix of fluid and organs, spilling onto the floor and spattering the nearby area in filth. As the monster fell, it's sword sliced across the back of Gareth's leg, slicing through leather, skin, and muscle. Gasping with pain, he stumbled backwards and fell, losing his grip on his sword as he tried to catch himself on both hands.  
The remaining monster turned towards him, raising its axe to deliver the deathblow. Eyes straining up at the blade, Gareth awaited the stroke. The blade fell, fell, fell. . . and thudded into the wooden floor inches from his face, followed shortly by the monster's bulk. Kicking upwards and to the side as the monster fell on top of him, Gareth pushed the monster up and away from him, who collapsed to the floor within an arm-span away. Standing quickly, Gareth grabbed his sword from where he dropped it and swung it in an overhead arc, bringing it down hard on the monster's throat. A spray of blue covered Gareth as the head separated from the body, throat opened and gushing obscenely. "Well done. Although, you do realize I had already killed him before he hit the floor. . ." Gareth started and brought his sword halfway up until he noticed the speaker, a man encased in bloodstained ornate armor and grim determination. "It's been a long time, Elikar," Gareth said breathing heavily.  
"That it has, Gareth. You seem no different now than you were then, always laying down on the job," the man said, grinning.  
"Well, now, it isn't my fault if my feet can't make up their minds about where they want to go."  
"Yes well, if your mind had not been immersed in drink perhaps it could have lent your feet some of its wisdom."  
"Hey, the drink warms your belly and loosens your sword-arm, always a good thing in a battle."  
"What good is loosening your sword arm if your legs can't carry you?"  
"At least you can still swing. If all you can do is walk you're no better than fresh meat."  
Elikar laughed, "I must concede that point."  
"Well, of course."  
Elikar sighed, "Had we met earlier we could have talked for a while my friend -"  
"Yeah, but with all those damned monsters running around it can be hard to get anywhere these days."  
"- and we hardly have the time for idle talk. As you can see -" he said, motioning to the bodies lying on the floor, "this town is under attack -"  
"So what else is new?"  
"- and the soldiers garrisoned here are untrained and outnumbered."  
"Speaking of numbers, where's Carsis?"  
"Carsis is outside, fighting back the horde."  
Looking around, Elikar's gaze fell to the beer mug. "You are lucky that you chose a bar at the rear of Lunas."  
"Yeah, I guess."  
"With so many recently arrived heroes, we managed to slow the monsters' advance through the town, so most haven't been able to make it back here."  
"But a few managed to slip by you guys anyway, so I gotta clean up for you guys back here. Can't you young men do any better than that?" Gareth said laughingly.  
"Well, we didn't realize there would be senile old men to protect back here," Elikar said wryly.  
"What the - senile old man? I guess I asked for that, you bastard."  
Suddenly, another armored figure rushed into the building, slightly out of breath from running. "Elikar, what do you think you're doing? We have a town to defend out here."  
"It's our old friend, Gareth. Don't you recognize him?" Elikar said, motioning towards Gareth.  
"Gareth? Why, it most certainly is!" The new man said, striding towards him and capturing him in a bear hug.  
"Haha. . . Carsis, you still are the same rough man you used to be," Gareth said as he felt the breath being crushed out of him by his comrade.  
"Sorry if your old bones can't take it," Carsis laughed.  
"My bones have taken more punishment than yours ever will, so I'd be quiet if I were you."  
"Sure old man. But we've got a battle to fight, and the hordes aren't getting any thinner," Elikar sighed.  
"Well, at any rate, I agree we're not going to get anything done standing around talking," Gareth said.  
Taking a look around to check his belongings, Gareth walked towards the door. "Okay, let's go."  
  
* * *  
  
"You have a talent for understatement, Elikar," Gareth growled, as he witnessed the onslaught. "This isn't a horde of monsters. . . this is a tide." Elikar grunted as he swung his two-handed sword with one hand, slicing open a grotesque face, spattering blade and armor with blue fluids. He kicked the body backwards and swung his blade sideways, severing the neck. The body toppled to the floor. Elikar turned towards a new attacker, raising his shield to block an axe blow then using the shield to bash the assailant in the face, crushing bone with a sickening crunch. As the monster howled and stumbled backwards, Elikar stabbed forward with his blade, impaling the monster and almost yanking the blade from his hands as the body fell backwards. Placing his foot on the body's chest, Elikar yanked his sword from the body and smashed the pommel into an onrushing demon.  
Gareth and Carsis worked side-by-side, swords rising and falling as they parried and sliced and chopped. Other warriors fought alone or in groups of three or four against packs of the red and green monsters. But no matter how many of the monsters fell, more and more streamed through the town gates. Though the human warriors fought bravely, every once in a while an axe would get through, cleaving a man in half, chopping off a limb, cutting open a head. As more and more humans fell, more and more monsters continued coming through the gates. "Ah shit," Gareth said grimly, as he took a look around at the slowly dwindling number of defenders.  
"We're not going to be able to hold out for much longer," Carsis said between breaths.  
Gareth chopped a monster in the leg, using extra force to cut through the scales, then sliced upwards to catch the monster under the chin, slicing the jaw neatly off and cracking the head backwards. The monster stumbled back, howling in pain, and rushed forward in a frenzy, dropping its sword to swing its axe two-handed over its head. Gareth rushed forwards, rolling under and past the blow, and impaled the monster right through the chest. Putting his foot to the monster's chest, Gareth slid the monster off his sword and turned to meet the next.  
"I don't see how we're going to last," he muttered.  
"We just have to keep fighting," Carsis said, "unless you want to just give up and die right now."  
"Nah, I've got a couple years left in me yet."  
Grunting, Carsis swiped sideways, severing the monster's arm at the shoulder, and spun around in the opposite direction, splitting the monster's face wide open with his greatsword.  
"Elikar seems to be holding out pretty good, but his armor is getting pretty banged up," Gareth commented, looking over towards the white-armored figure.  
"Yes, he's been fighting monsters all over the place now. He's gotten use to swinging and swinging and swinging," Carsis said, parrying a sword thrust and viciously slashing open the monster's chest in the same motion.  
"Yeah, well, between the three of us I think we could hold them off through the gates."  
"Yes, but we have to get to the gates first."  
  
* * *  
  
Loraan could sense them several hours before he could see them, confirming his worst fears as he rode towards Lunas. His warhorse seemed to be able to sense them as well, head alert, eyes staring intently in the direction of the evil feeling. The past few towns he had passed through had either been empty and devoid even of corpses, or utterly devastated with burned and mutilated bodies lying everywhere. In either case, there had not been a single survivor in any of the towns he had passed, nor in the wilderness or surrounding countryside, save the abandoned warhorse he now rode. The farms along a few of the main roads were mostly intact, as if waiting for farmers to harvest the vegetables and fruits, but no life could be found anywhere. Loraan did not know how far north the destruction had spread, but with an aura of evil to the north, he knew that if the town of Lunas was not already destroyed, it would be if he did not arrive quickly. He could sense a sort of urgency, as if something called him. It was not simply the desire to save the city, but something else. . . a beacon of some sort, although Loraan did not know what this power could be. He spurred his horse into a gallop towards the north, a dust cloud rising in his wake, covering the decaying corpses on the roadside.  
  
* * *  
  
Amura's eyes snapped open, flaring blue. He could sense something to the northwest, an amassed presence of evil. "A real army this time," he thought. Reaching outwards with his power, focusing all of his strength into it, he probed the nature of the forces. "With an overseer, and one of power, no less," he hissed, "Well, at least it isn't a general." The overseers of Hell tended to be vicious, and at the very least were a sign that the attackers were an organized force rather than just a random band of marauding monsters. The generals, however, were very bad news, and the presence of a general usually meant the town, and its inhabitants had a slim chance of survival. His destination happened to be in the northwest, where the force was, and he could not help but think that this attack was not a coincidence, especially not with a force of the magnitude he was sensing. But he could feel another presence, something he could not identify or explain. His sense of it had grown stronger as he approached Lunas, but he could never identify what it was. And to the west, closer to himself and moving to the north at moderate speed, was exactly the same presence. This puzzled him greatly, for how could the same presence be in two different locations at once? It simply made no sense. "No matter. I'll deal with it when I come to it. But for now, I must get to Lunas before it is too late," he thought. Focusing inwards, he psionically relayed instructions to his minion to guard the neighboring towns. Drawing on his power, he tore a hole through reality and sent himself through it, disappearing into the Void.  
  
* * *  
  
Several miles away, Sulaco rode through Khanduras after departing from the emptied city of Ulethos. He rode northwards, always north, without consciously knowing why he did so.  



	4. Chapter 3: Wailing Doom

Angel of Death  
Chapter 3: Wailing Doom  
  
Elikar cursed as he felt his arm go numb from the impact, almost causing him to drop his shield. The great axe had left a large, ugly mark on the faded red design, and had he been just a little slower, it would have taken off a good sized chunk of his head. As it was however, Elikar was fast enough do unto the monster as it would have done to him before it had a chance to recover from its swing. Blue ichor sprayed outward in an obscene crescent as a cruel gash appeared on the monster's human-like face. The monster fell back, missing an eye and half of its flat nose, as another demon rushed in roaring, swinging a two-handed sword overhead. Raising his shield and deflecting the blow, almost by instinct, he slashed one-handed to slice the attacker's wrist neatly off, then twisted and cut across the chest to send the demon howling to the ground, where it was trampled by its comrades attempting to get a piece of Elikar. Axes and swords whirled around him in a globe of blades as he parried, blocked, stabbed and slashed. Though he killed several more demons, eventually, it was too much and he rolled backwards with his shield above him to escape being mobbed.  
Taking a look around himself, Elikar realized that he had become separated from his comrades. All other human fighters in the area had already been killed. Heads, arms, legs and various pieces of human and demon torsos lay scattered about like so much bloody refuse. He could hear the sounds of fighting behind him, and the Lunas city wall lay to his left. Peering in front of him, he could just barely make out one of the twin towers that marked the city gates. "Dammit, we have to get to the gates and close them if we're ever going to stop the tide of monsters," he thought grimly.  
Elikar's attention turned back towards the demons that were now charging towards him, swords and axes swinging as their roars filled the air. Hefting his two-handed sword in his right hand and his shield in his left, he ran forward to greet them. Rolling under the first swing, he swept the tip of his shield sideways, the serrated edge slicing the thick muscles of the calf cleanly. His sword shot out on his right as he rolled, slicing through shin bones and muscle. He could hear the demons roaring in pain, even as he lept to his feet and ran the rest of the way through the demons, dodging blows and returning them as he flew past. He doubted he scored any kills, but most of the monsters would be several limbs short after his passing. He continued running, his plate mail clanking against him and slowing him down dramatically. After almost two hours of fighting, the weight on his shoulders was rapidly taking its toll, and his feet felt like lead bricks that he dragged across the dirt-covered ground. Looking behind him to see if the demons pursued, he saw that the majority were missing legs, or pieces of legs, and thus could do nothing but crawl or hop about.  
As Elikar neared the gates, he noticed that the sounds of fighting grew louder. In particular, he heard a strange, high-pitched screaming sound that he was certain could not be of this world. "Even the village wenches could not scream this piercingly," he mumbled to himself. To his right, Elikar noticed Gareth and Carsis working their way towards the main gate, swords rising and falling in perfect rhythm, cutting a swath through demon flesh as they cursed and slashed. Deciding that his friends could handle themselves, Elikar continued to stumble towards the gates, where the enemy was thickest.  
The first demon he impaled did not even sense Elikar as the blade entered its back. Sliding the monstrosity off of his blade, Elikar slashed sideways, cutting the heads off two monsters and embedding the blade deeply in the cheek of a third. He tugged on the blade, hard, to attempt to dislodge it but without avail, the tough demon bones gripping the blade tightly. His attention diverted, he did not notice the demon's sword until it had cut an ugly line in his shoulder, sliding sideways across his collarbone. Hissing in pain, Elikar gave one hard tug to pull his blade loose, then spun around and slashed backhanded to cut the demon's face cleanly in two. Unable to tend to his shoulder due to the danger, he could only clench his teeth from the pain and continue forward. The scream was getting louder.  
Not fifty feet from the gigantic gates of Lunas, Elikar noticed that the monsters were focused on something in their midst, and thus did not even notice him as he weaved in and out of their ranks, killing almost at leisure. He worked his way like a butcher through the ranks, wincing at the screaming which had now reached an ear-splitting level. As he neared the gates, he had to drop his shield and hold the side of his head in pain, but so focused were the demons that they failed to notice the helpless man standing not twenty feet behind them. Elikar had to stop that noise soon or go insane. But the screaming seemed to come from every direction at once.  
Elikar sensed the motion before he could fully see it, but some of the blade still got past his own and a new line opened in his armor, a field of crimson spreading through the chain links under the plating. Without his shield, and his head almost shattering from the noise, he was unable to parry the demon's axe swipe, which caught him full in the chest, knocking him to the ground and cracking several ribs. Elikar's ornate sword flew out of his hand as he hit the ground hard. Cursing from the pain, he blinked to clear his eyes. An emotionless face looked down upon him as two arms swung a shining silver blade downwards to cleave Elikar in half. Before he had time to do anything however, he felt a sudden wind above him, and a deafening, piercing, screech blasted through the air. The demon above him suddenly fell apart in several pieces, clean slice marks across the torso and head. Almost every joint had been cleanly sliced, the bone protruding slightly, a sickly yellowish white. Above him stood a towering, lean man. Though frail-looking, Elikar could almost feel a physical aura of power around him, as if he consciously projected it. His head had not a single hair upon it, and had an almost golden sheen to it. What interested Elikar the most however, was the strange weapon he held. The sword was a monster, a full four meters of cold blue-black blade. The blade was just slightly curved and seemed useless for stabbing. The blade was extremely thin along its entire length, seemingly sharp enough to draw blood from the air. The height of the blade was strange - a mere two or three inches high at the base, near the handle, which suddenly widened gracefully into a half-foot high head. The surface of the head was strange too, not solid like most blades. Archaic patterns and symbols seemed to have been cut out of the blade that once in a while flashed black-blue.  
The man held the gigantic weapon out to his right side with one hand while he extended the other to help Elikar to his feet. "Greetings friend, I am Amuro. It seemed like you required assistance. In your damaged state, I doubt you'll make it very far, so follow me, and I will protect you."  
"I thank you for your help, but I don't really need protecting, just my sword and my shield - " Elikar coughed. He noted that the piercing screaming had stopped.  
"You can trust me. . . it will be faster this way. If I let you fight on your own, I would forever be returning to save you. It would be quicker if you stayed with me."  
"I can still fight, despite my wounds."  
"Yes, but not well enough to stay alive my friend. You have several broken ribs and many smaller wounds. Be smart and live."  
Elikar, not wanting to argue, shrugged, "Very well. I think you for your help then."  
"Retrieve your weaponry and come with me. I would heal you, but I have not the power."  
Amuro started off at a moderate walk towards a group of monsters, his sword still held off to the right with one hand. Elikar bent over and picked up his sword and shield, wincing at the pain in his midsection and almost struggling under the weight due to loss of blood. He marveled at how the man had managed to remain unhurt through all the fighting, and how he could hold that monster of a sword with one hand. The man had just reached a large group of several dozen demons as Elikar caught up. He heard, "Be careful not to get in my way" before the man suddenly blurred into motion. His feet, rather than moving like a man running, seemed to simply slide motionless along the ground with demonic speed. The man leaned forward as he slid, bringing his sword over his right shoulder. Before the words had finished entering Elikar's ears, the man had already slid past his first victim. The demon had just raised its sword when the man's gigantic blade cut him neatly in half. Before the body had barely started to separate, the man was on to his next victim, sweeping the blade sideways so fast Elikar only saw a black blur before the blade suddenly changed direction, rising then sweeping downwards diagonally, slicing two demons in half and removing the leg of a third. He spun and slashed backhanded, decapitating several demons in passing.  
The piercing wail slammed into Elikar like a tide, almost bowling him over, forcing him to drop his sword and shield to clutch his head in pain. Noticing this however, Amuro stopped his butchering for a second to weave his hand arcanely above his blade while whispering an incantation. The moment he was done, he became a blur again, slashing in and out of the group of demons while they stood helpless to defend themselves. Elikar, however, was more preoccupied with the sudden absence of pain and deafening screams. Retrieving his sword and shield once more from the ground, he stumbled into the fray, coming up behind a demon that seemed to be held almost in paralysis. Its muscles twitched rapidly, but it seemed unable to do anything productive, and both hands gripped bladed weapons at its sides, unmoving. Elikar raised his sword to decapitate the monster, but before his hand was even above his shoulder a figured blurred into existence in front of the monster, slashed rapidly, then blurred away, searching for another victim. The demon fell in a heap of dismembered body parts as Elikar sighed, looking around for more demons. There were none. The handful remaining out of the original several dozen were being rapidly butchered by the blue-black blade. In a flurry of blurred motions, the last of the demons fell in a heap of body parts. Amuro turned towards Elikar. "Come with me, there remain more demons to butcher."  
Elikar was a seasoned battle-veteran, a soldier in countless battles between the kingdoms, and he had seen many incredible champions, whose strength and sword skills seemed almost god-like. Never had he seen such a man as the butcher that now turned and walked towards the gates. He did not wear armor, nor did he have a shield. He was dressed in a blue and black embroidered shirt that hugged his body tightly, and wide, billowy black-silk pants that were extremely narrow at the ankles. Around his body flowed a long black silk cloak which billowed back behind him as he strode away. All in all, he dressed more like a battle mage than a swordfighter, and yet he seemed to have no power with Mana. On top of that, he wielded with one arm a blade the likes of which Elikar had never seen in all his traveling, a blade that a normal fighter probably would not even be able to lift with two arms. And his speed was something out of nightmares, blurring in and out of existence as he butchered demons. And yet, the slashing was not wild, since every demon had either been cut in half, or taken apart at the joints. Shaking his head in wonderment, Elikar walked quickly to catch up.  
  
* * *  
  
Gareth turned towards Carsis, "Where do you suppose that screaming is coming from?"  
"It doesn't sound like a human, and we haven't heard a demon scream. It seems to be coming from the direction of the gates."  
"How convenient, seeing as how we're headed there anyway."  
Carsis nodded in agreement while casually slicing off a demon's face as it charged forward from the right. Gareth went low and slashed sideways, splitting scales to gouge out the demon's intestines, and the monster fell over, spraying blue ichor into the air. The two fighters looked around them. That had been the last demon in this area, the only remaining sign of demonic activity was at the gates. The humans in the area had all either fled or been butchered. The latter seemed more likely, as human corpses, whole and in pieces, littered the ground. The crows were going to have a feast.  
The two warriors walked to the left, towards the gates. As they approached, the screaming they had noticed grew louder and louder, coming in waves. Gareth cursed at the noise, while Carsis only winced and continued jogging, greatsword held down at his right side. They saw a group of thirty-odd demons near the gates with their backs turned towards them. Gareth and Carsis snuck up behind them, taking care not to rattle their armor. Stepping lightly, they drew within arms-length of the demons, raised their swords, and killed the two monsters standing closest to them. The other monsters did not turn around. As the two continued butchering them, the monsters made no movement or sound, like stone.  
"What's wrong with these guys?" Gareth asked, decapitating a demon.  
"They seem to be paralyzed. Their muscles are twitching but they don't seem to be able to really move." Carsis said, cutting a demon in half. The two men rapidly dispatched the entire group of demons, then continued towards the gate. After a few dozen stpes, Gareth dropped to his knee, clutching his head. Carsis looked like he wished he could do the same."  
"This noise is getting extremely painful," Gareth cursed, clutching his head and shaking, as if trying to dislodge something on his back.  
"It is," Carsis agreed, "but from here it sounds like it's coming from every direction. I wonder what it is."  
"I don't CARE what it is. I just want it to stop!" Gareth yelled.  
As if on cue, the screaming suddenly did just that. The noise died away to a dull, high-pitched whistle, then to a whine, and then nothing. Silence. Except for the roars of dying demons. "What the -" Gareth said, looking about hesitantly as if the noise would start up any second now, "what happened?"   
Carsis, free of the pain, suddenly noticed a figure in blue-stained armor. "Look Gareth, it's Elikar!" he pointed to his left.  
"Well I'll be damned. Looks like the boy is still alive. He's got more in him than I thought."  
"I told you, he's been fighting monsters all over Sanctuary."  
"I wonder if he knows what that noise was."  
"We should get over there quickly."  
"I second that."  
The two ran as fast as their armor allowed towards Elikar, and the gate. Elikar seemed lost in thought, walking towards the gates in a daze, not seeing his two friends coming up behind him on his right. Gareth clapped him on the shoulder, shaking Elikar out of his thoughts. Elikar spun around while raising his sword, before noticing the tanned, grizzled face in front of him. "Gareth, old man! I thought the demons would have butchered you," he said, chuckling.  
"Of course, but I had Carsis with me, so I was pretty safe, even with my squeaky old joints," Gareth joked, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder at the big man that was jogging towards them.  
"Greetings, Carsis. How goes the fighting?" Elikar said to the larger man.  
"The slaughter is quite good. There hasn't been a battle like this in many years," Carsis said, almost cheerily.  
"The areas around the gate are cleared, but most of the humans have been slain. The only remaining demons seem to be at the gates," Gareth broke in.  
"Well, there won't be many left."  
"Sure, after we're through with them," Gareth snickered.  
"No, no. We may not even get a shot at them." Elikar said, shaking his head.  
"Eh? What do you mean?" Carsis said, concerned.  
"We aren't the only experienced fighters here. Do you remember that screaming sound? The one that made your head feel like there was broken glass spinning around your brain?"  
Carsis and Gareth both nodded. "Sure, I couldn't even hear myself think," Gareth said.  
"Well, that noise was coming from a strange new fighter named Amuro."  
"A new fighter? Amuro?" Carsis asked.  
"Yes. I've never seen him, or his kind before. He looks human enough, but he fights like a demon. And he moves faster than anything I have ever seen." Carsis and Gareth simply stood there, thoughtful. "Well, if he's out there butchering demons, I say he's more than welcome. Less work for us," Gareth said.  
"He dresses more like a battle mage than a warrior. He doesn't wear any form of armor, nor does he carry a shield. And yet, he has not a single wound on his body," Elikar continued in wonderment.  
"Well, isn't that something?" Gareth said.  
"And his sword, I do not know where he could have gotten such a weapon. It's a four meter blade, but he wields it in one hand most of the time."  
"One hand? Are you sure? Maybe he was moving so fast you couldn't see his other hand?" Carsis asked.  
"You could be right, but I am pretty sure it was one hand."  
"Impossible. A four meter blade can barely be swung with two hands." Gareth said.  
"Of course you're right, but he also moves faster than anything ever could, so he is already quite extraordinary."  
"Where is this man?" Carsis said, "I want to see him for myself."  
Elikar pointed towards the gates, where a huge mass of demons stood, paralyzed. "Just follow the paralyzed demons."  
"He can paralyze demons too?" Gareth asked, "seems like a handy ability."  
"I don't know how he does it, since I can't sense him casting a spell. It must have something to do with his weapon." Elikar said.  
The three of them jogged together over towards the gates. As they neared the demons, Gareth suddenly cried out, "By the Gods! Did you see that?" Excitedly, he ran towards the demons full tilt. Carsis followed quickly after, while Elikar winced and jogged behind. Black blurs flashed among the demons, and they fell two or three at a time in lifeless heaps of demonic meat. Gareth could only stare, mouth agape. Carsis stood beside him, shaking his head in disbelief at the bloody sight unfolding before him. Elikar, came up behind them, watching for the second time as a group of demons was butchered by a whirling fury of black slashes. Within minutes, fifty or so demons lay dead on the ground, with more joining them every moment. The man continued through the gates, slaughtering paralyzed demons as he went. Gareth, Carsis, and Elikar followed closely behind.  
As they passed through the gates, a large red-black circle came into view. It was roughly ten meters high, and pulsed with a hellish light. And it spewed demons onto the battlefield. Elikar pointed, "A HellGate! We must reach the portal and destroy it if we are ever going to stop this siege!"  
"But how the hell are we going to destroy a magical portal with swords?" Gareth cursed.  
Carsis shrugged, "we'll worry about that once we reach it."  
At the rate Amuro was felling demons, it didn't seen like it'd be long. Black slashes started appearing at a faster and faster rate. The man worked quickly, systematically butchering demons in small groups, moving rapidly towards the portal. The three companions soon found themselves treading on a carpet of demon arms, legs, and dismembered torsos. Every once in a while, there would be a neat pile of exactly two arms, two legs, a head, and a body, neatly sliced at the joints and fallen in almost the correct configuration. Everywhere they looked, blue flowed like water over the battlefield.  
As they neared the portal, they suddenly heard a deafening roar, and a true monster appeared before them. "An Overseer," Elikar hissed. The demon was much larger than anything else on the field, towering ten meters above their heads. It was massively built, a hulking brute of a demon, with limbs as thick across as tree-trunks. Several layers of metallic scales blanketed its body, and bladed edges appeared almost at random on its person. Cruel metallic claws clicked as the Overseer let out another earth-shattering roar. The beast took a step forward, causing the ground to shake. A low rumble filled the air.  
"Shit. I really wished Diablo wouldn't make 'em so damn big!" Gareth cursed.  
"I want to see how Amuro handles this guy," Carsis said thoughtfully.  
Amuro, meanwhile, did not seem to notice the Overseer that was slowly moving towards him, step by lumbering step. He continued to slash away at the lesser demons that crowded around the portal. His slashing pace was accelerating, to the point where his sword seemed to leave black streaks in the air as it removed body parts at an unearthly rate.  
The Overseer raised a bladed fist and brought it crashing to the ground, shaking the land violently and knocking the three companions off their feet. Gareth cursed as he lost his footing on the shifting soil, while Elikar and Carsis caught themselves on their shields and slowly stood up. Amuro was still ignoring the monstrosity, somehow remaining on his feet, never losing a beat in his rapid killing. Roaring, the Overseer closed the remaining distance and took a swipe with its fist, claws extended and glinting in the sunlight. Amuro didn't see the blades coming, turning to decapitate another demon, then cutting diagonally upwards to slice two demons in half. The approaching claws were carving a path through the demons, impaling them on the cruel blades. Amuro still hadn't noticed. Gareth yelled, "Duck!" as the blade came closer and closer. The lethal blades sliced through thin air.  
Everyone blinked.  
Amuro had somehow lept from the ground to the Overseer's shoulder, nine meters above the ground. From the ground, the three warriors saw a large black crescent and suddenly the Overseer's arm continued flying through the air, powered by its remaining force and unimpeded by the shoulder joint. The Overseer roared in pain swinging its other arm upwards in order to swipe Amuro off its shoulder like an insect. As the hand neared him, Amuro ducked and slashed upwards as the bladed hand passed over his head, slicing the hand off neatly at the wrist. Howling, the demon swatted with its stump, hitting itself as Amuro took off towards the Overseer's neck. There was a huge black streak as Amuro ran past the thick coils of the throat, and there was a sudden tide of dark red. Amuro barely leapt out of the way in time. As the head separated from the body, a dark, bubbling tide of red poured from the gaping wound, hissing and crackling as it hit the ground. Wherever it touched, the ground boiled and sizzled like water on a fire, rapidly turning from brown or green to deathly black. Demons, living and dead alike, were too close to their Overseer to avoid the acidic blood. Hissing, the blood corroded demon scales, flesh, and bone, leaving nothing put blackened craters in the ground.  
Suddenly, a loud, demonic voice filled the air with its harsh tone. It seemed to come from everywhere at once, echoing off the city walls and reverberating with an unholy power, "You pitiful humans may have defeated me here, but the new Warlord will make your existence short and painful. He is coming to Sanctuary, and all must fall before his might. Power the likes of which has never before been seen in Sanctuary. . ." With that, the Overseer's body toppled to the ground in a lifeless heap, where it dissolved into a black, featureless mass. From the falling carcass, a horrible apparition appeared, peering vehemently at Amuro, before dissolving into a chaotic maelstrom of energy with a deafening roar and shooting into the ground, back to the Hell which had spawned it.  
Taking care to avoid the black mass which was still bubbling away merrily, Gareth, Elikar, and Carsis made their way towards Amuro. He was talking to himself when they reached him. "Quite an interesting development."  
Elikar nodded thoughtfully. "So one of Hell's Warlord is behind the recent plague of demons."  
"No. The Overseer mentioned a new Warlord," Carsis put in, thoughtful as well.  
Amuro laughed harshly, "And the old Warlords wouldn't have the courage to attack again. Several of them were mercilessly butchered during their last campaign."  
Elikar looked at him sharply. "By whom?"  
"A very powerful warrior, legendary in his strength. The last of a long line of those sworn to protect Sanctuary from the forces of Heaven and Hell alike."  
"Who?  
"It does not matter any longer. He is no more."  
"No more? What happened to him?"  
"It does not matter. With him gone, we must continue the struggle for him."  
"Who is 'we'?" Carsis asked suddenly.  
"My siblings and I. We shall continue our father's work."  
"Your father?" Elikar asked sharply.  
"Yes. Our father. We know nothing of him, save that he had always fought against the influence of any immortals."  
Gareth coughed loudly. "I think we should continue this later. We still have to deal with this portal."  
"How are we going to destroy an energy portal with swords?" Elikar asked, looking over at Amuro.  
Amuro only shrugged. "I have not the power. However, I have made arrangements. He should be arriving. . . now."  
Gareth, Elikar, and Carsis looked around curiously, while Amuro bent his head to his chest, eyes closed, thinking. "There!" Gareth pointed. Following his outstretched finger, Elikar and Carsis look up behind them in time to see a man dressed in the rich blue traveling robes of an Archmage materializing above them. The man floated in the air, eyes closed, mouthing strange incantations known only to him. His fingers weaved an arcane pattern in the air as he continued to silently mouth words of power. After several seconds, a blue aura, like a brightly burning flame, appeared around his body. Where they weaved, his fingers now traced blue patterns in the air, and from under his eyelids, blue flame licked as though to singe his eyebrows. He too, was bald, and from his head, a crown of blue flame danced excitedly, much faster than natural flame. Slowly, the mage opened his eyes and raised his head to look upon the portal. While still silently mouthing incantations, he extended a hand, unnaturally long fingers splayed out like a spider's web. The flaming aura around him flared brightly as he spoke the last words of his spell out loud, his voice booming with an unnatural, ethereal echo across the deserted battlefield. As the echo of those last words died away, a column of blue fire shot forward, striking the mirror surface of the red portal. The portal shuddered at the impact, the mirror surface breaking into waves. The mage continued feeding power into the blue energy column, slowly breaking away the portal's moorings in the mortal world. With a final shudder, the portal shattered brilliantly and collapsed in upon itself, blinking out of existence.  
"Well done, Amura," Amuro said loudly, opening his eyes and looking at the mage.  
"My thanks, brother. It really was no trouble." Slowly, the mage lowered himself to the ground, a slight dust cloud rising from his landing.  
"It seems that we have a new Warlord on our hands that needs to be disposed of," Amuro said grimly.  
"Another one? Is that the cause of the recent demonic invasions?"  
"I do not know for sure. However, I have been thinking upon the recent demonic activity, and it seems to widespread, and above all, too. . . well, too successful for a Warlord."  
"Then you think it is one of the Three come to Sanctuary then?"  
"I fear that it must be."  
"But then what is the purpose of the Warlord?"  
"I do not know. The way the Overseer -" Amuro nodded towards the still bubbling carcass, "- was speaking of him, this Warlord may be different."  
"Hmm. . . perhaps," Amura bent his head, thinking, "Perhaps this Warlord is an avatar of one of the Three? Or perhaps one with the combined might of the Three?"  
"I've decided that the Warlord's nature matters little. It will matter even less when we finally track him down and put an end to him."  
"I doubt it will be that simple, my friend. The Warlord has been remarkably effective so far. The majority of the south has fallen silent, most victims disappeared without a trace a-"  
"Excuse me, but just who are you people?" Gareth asked exasperatedly.  
"Eh?" Amura turned and looked at the old warrior that addressed him. "I am Amura, Archmage from the Citadel of the Sky," the mage said, bowing from the neck. "Who do I have the pleasure of addressing?"  
Elikar stepped up, "My name is Elikar, I am a knight of Khanduras. These are my friends and companions, Gareth, and Carsis."  
"Well, Elikar, Gareth, and Carsis, I suggest that you tend to your wounds and leave before more trouble comes," Amuro said, turning back towards his brother.  
"Not so fast. I want some answers first," Gareth said. "First of all, was it you making that infernal screaming noise? And second of all, what manner of weapon is that?" he said, pointing at the sword that Amuro held at his side.  
Amuro looked at Amura, who raised his eyebrows and shrugged. The man sighed. "Very well. I can answer both questions with one answer. The screaming noise that you heard comes from the sword. You see here the symbols cut out of the blade. These symbols confer a powerful necromantic enchantment on the blade. When the blade is swung at high enough speeds, air passes over the symbols, which creates a magical banshee wail. This wail paralyzes all enemies within hearing distance. As for the blade itself, those in Kurast call it 'The Screaming Black Blade of Destruction,' but it is better known in Khanduras as - "  
"Wailing Doom," Elikar suddenly whispered in awe.  
"- yes, the Wailing Doom." Amuro said, eyeing Elikar curiously. "You look like you have some knowledge of it."  
"Yes. I heard of that blade from my father, but I had never seen it myself, of course. He told me tales of how it could slaughter entire armies as they stood powerless to defend themselves, and of the banshee scream that always accompanied its passing. I don't know why I hadn't thought of it earlier."  
"Well. He did not see it either, or he would not have lived to tell you tales. I have always fought alone, and all who have stood against me have met their ends on this edge," Amuro whispered, running a finger along the edge of the blade.  
"Okay, okay. That's all fine and everything," Gareth said rudely, "But what are you doing in Lunas?"  
"Demon hunting of course," Amura said, before his brother could reply. "I sensed the dark aura of this demon army and teleported here to save the city."  
Gareth looked around, "A whole lot of saving you did here. I don't see a single townsperson. Alive anyway. Got plenty of dead people for the crows, but that doesn't do the people a whole lot of good."  
"We were also summoned here to meet someone," Amuro said. Amura shot him a look, but the man continued, "We are apparently forming a group to hunt the Seven Fallen Stars." Carsis' eyes widened at this.  
"The Seven? But adventurers have been trying to find them for ages. Most have either died or given up," Carsis said.  
"That is true. We think the ones that died trying actually did find a few of the Seven, but were killed by guardians of some sort."  
"Guardians?"  
"Yes. Artifacts of such power as the Seven are bound to be guarded by something, to prevent some fool from stumbling upon one of them by accident and using it to rule Sanctuary or something foolish like that."  
Carsis nodded thoughtfully.  
"If you are done with your questions, we must search the city for our contact," Amura said.  
"Perhaps he's already dead, because you weren't fast enough in getting here," Gareth muttered.  
Amura looked at the wielder of the Waling Doom, and chuckled. "No, it's not likely that she'd be killed. It'd take a lot more than a horde of demons to kill that one."  



End file.
